


Muse

by RockefellerFrank



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Probably getting M later on, hella gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockefellerFrank/pseuds/RockefellerFrank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are they both for you, pretty girl?"<br/>Pyrrha turned, ready to hand one over to whoever had interrupted her. When she looked, none of her friends were to be seen.<br/>"Uh...excuse me?"<br/>"Over here, genius." The voice said, as soft as cotton and as feminine as silk. When she turned again, she saw the woman next to her. "Are you always this attentive?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muse

Pyrrha hated clubs like this.

  
The loud music gave her a migraine, the flashing lights gave her eye-strain, the smell of sweat made her wretch, the drinks made her tongue curl up, and the way everybody's eyes worked over her body made her skin creep and crawl.

  
Beacon was an assault on all 5 senses. (FIVE senses, not thirty like that British dope in her History class said.) Who even named a nightclub Beacon? It was a stupid idea to even come, but Yang and Ruby had insisted. And it was Weiss's birthday. And she wanted to make sure that the dark haired bitch didn't sink her claws into Jaune.

  
_Maybe you wouldn't feel so bad if you just admitted your feelings to him, doofus._   
_Maybe we're not made for each other like you and Ren._   
_And maybe you are._   
_Shut up, Nora._

  
The music died down for a second, and Pyrrha took the opportunity to order another glass of fruit-flavoured poison. She faked a smile for Ruby, forced a laugh for something Nora yelled, sighed when she saw Blake and Jaune disappearing on the dance floor together, and decided to order a second drink.

  
"Are they both for you, pretty girl?"

Pyrrha turned, ready to hand one over to whoever had interrupted her. When she looked, none of her friends were to be seen.

"Uh...excuse me?"

"Over here, genius." The voice said, as soft as cotton and as feminine as silk. When she turned again, she saw the woman next to her. "Are you always this attentive?"  
She was tall, maybe the same height as Pyrrha. Her eyes were a glorious shade of amber, contrasting perfectly with her ash-black hair and pale skin. For a second, Pyrrha wondered if it would be in appropriate to ask her to pose for her, to model for her art program.

Preferably on a luxurious red sofa.

Preferably with a cosy, just woken-up look about her.

Preferably naked.

"Do you talk?" She asked and finally Pyrrha remembered the whole conversing aspect of a conversation. 

"The drinks are both for me." She managed, praying that the red lights hanging from the rafters would cover her blush.

"Oh, and there was me thinking that you were just helping out a beautiful stranger." She was clearly older, but not by much. The red dress she was wearing clung to every curve, every bump, and for a second Pyrrha had to remind herself that she was straight.

"You can have one if you like." She managed, and for a second the older woman looked like she was about to burst into hysterics.

"Well, you're clearly the assertive type. Do you have a name, assertive girl?" Her mouth was small and feminine, her tongue long and pointed, her lips plump and pretty. When Pyrrha couldn't bring herself to answer, she sighed. "My name is Cinder. Can you manage to say Cinder, assertive girl?"

"My name is Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos." She scowled, and suddenly the older woman looked surprised.

"Nikos? As in the artist? The child prodigy daughter of Miles and Kerry Nikos?" She tilted her head back, laughing. "What's a pretty little rich girl like you doing in a pit like this?" Every word she said was twisted seductively, her shoulders shifted as she talked, making her cleavage bigger.

Pyrrha wasn't actually rich yet. She was 18, but her inheritance wouldn't kick in until she hit 21. Until then she was living off of freelance pictures she drew for local galleries, being woefully undercharged for every piece. "I'm here with friends." She said, eyes focusing on Jaune's reflection on the shining metal wall coverings. 

"You mean the scraggy blonde kid you've been gazing at since you sat down?" The second drink Pyrrha had ordered was already gone, the empty glass hanging between Cinder's long, pale fingers as Pyrrha clutched at her still full one.

"No." 

Cinder let out an amused sigh, before reaching for her purse. She stopped when she touched it, then put her hand back on the bar. "I'm running a little short on cash. Mind paying for my company?" She gave a coy smile, almost completely covering the shame on her face.

"Sure." She said, clearly not appreciating being guilted into buying drinks. The fourth appletini of the evening hit her, and she heard herself say "'Pay for your company', you sound like a prostitute."

"Is that what you want me to be?" The woman asked.

"I mean-" She blushed a deeper shade of red, and suddenly the heat in the room hit her. "What do you do? What's your profession?"

Cinder let out a laugh. There was no mirth or warmth, it seemed cold and calculated. "Now, nothing. I had a job lined up, but it fell through and now I'm left broke and homeless." She raised a glass, toasting her own poverty.

"What was your job?" A pause.

"Acquisition."

"As in finding things?"

She shrugged. "Yes and no."

"Have you ever tried modelling."

Cinder stopped, looking her in the eye. "That sounds like a job offer." She said, her mouth closed, eyes focused.

"I've been looking for a... inspiration. You're interesting, I would like to draw you." Her mouth had become dry, and for a second her heart felt close to bursting out of her chest and landing on the bar with a comical thump.

Cinder swirled her finger in her drink, mulling it over. "How much do I get payed?"

"500 for the day, more if you want to continue." It was more than the usual rate, and more than what was fair, but not even close to what she was willing to pay. This could be her masterpiece, and she was willing to fight tooth and nail to make sure that she kept it.

Cinder raised her eyebrows, picking an olive from a shining glass. "Two conditions." She placed the olive between her teeth, chewing it thoughtfully. "Number one, you buy me drinks for the rest of the evening. Including this one." She poured the full glass down her throat, all of it disappearing between her lips.

Pyrrha nodded. It was a small price to pay, and she was already willing to double her original offer. "And the second?"

"Number two, I'm homeless right now. I've been sleeping at motels, but I can't afford that much longer. If you want to draw me, I get to stay at your place until we're done."

She could have mentioned how inappropriate that was.

She could have mentioned her anxiety about having strangers in her home.

She could have just offered to pay for a better hotel.

Instead, she said "I don't have a spare room, and I already have a friend sleeping on the couch."

Cinder smiled. "Then I guess we're sharing a bed tonight."

And Pyrrha, who had never even thought about doing anything with another girl, blushed and said OK.

**Author's Note:**

> Are there any other fics with this ship or am I being a hipster with my ships again? Actually, Shipster is a perfect term and I'm keeping it.  
> Also, I'm not exactly known for finishing things so I'm going to need one or two of you beautiful son-of-a-guns to motivate me now and then.


End file.
